Someone asked me at the beginning of the week whether I was going to miss being pregnant. Someone who had just met me and has no idea of the stress and anxiety this pregnancy has caused in me. How much of an emotional wreck I've been.
And you know what?
The answer. It's 'yes'. I really am going to miss it.
[This next section... I hope it doesn't upset anyone. I'm sorry if it does; I won't be surprised... I find it upsetting myself. I finally put into words some feelings I had at the beginning of the second trimester that I could barely acknowledge even to myself. It's horrible but it's how I felt at the time. I'm very glad things didn't come to pass like this.]
Makes no sense, does it? I've hated the last eight months or so. I've been 100% certain that the baby is either dead or going to die very soon for large chunks of this pregnancy. At times, in the second trimester... part of me would almost have been relieved to find out the baby was dead, because it would have meant that I didn't have to live with the uncertainty any more.
(I hated myself for thinking that. I still do. I'm so glad he's still OK. Right now, even if he's fated not to make it, I'm glad we've got this far. I'm glad I've had this time with him, even though it has been traumatic and scary as hell.)
If you'd asked me back in March or April - or earlier for that matter - whether I would miss being pregnant I would have either laughed at you or, quite possibly, slapped you. Being pregnant wasn't the point. Having a baby was the point. Getting to take home a living, healthy baby.
But somehow things changed. I think the therapy and CBT really did make a difference. Right now... I'm still terrified. I'm getting more anxious again. 39 weeks today, just two weeks left at the most; I am not going past 41 weeks even if I have to refuse to leave the hospital. But I'm enjoying him living in my belly. The times where D and I sit and watch him shifting inside me and laugh, fascinated... they're worth all the times when I lie in bed with my hands on my belly, willing him to move, terrified he's stopped for good.
And there are still a fair few of those.
I think that as much as anything I want a do-over. I want to go back and be less anxious. Not not-anxious, that was never a realistic aim. But I think back to what a wreck I was in March and April particularly and it just seems like such a waste. If only I could have come to this place of zen a month or two earlier. When I had my leaving lunch from work, someone said I'd been a completely different person for the last month or so, and she was right. I've been completely different, and a lot less exhausting both for myself and for those around me. Hell, if I manage to hold out until tomorrow, I've not been to the hospital for monitoring because of freaking out about the baby for four whole weeks. That was unthinkable just a couple of weeks before that.
I want to meet him now. Like, now. But at the same time, I don't want this pregnancy to be over. I don't know if we'll ever even try for another baby. I don't want this to be over before I'm ready. Now I'm finally enjoying carrying him.
My blood pressure was up on Thursday, but no traces of protein in my ur.ine. Today my blood pressure was normal but there were traces of protein. They're keeping an eye on me. Baby seems to be doing fine though.
One week until my due date. Baby is engaged and I'm uncomfortable. I hope he turns up on time.
I can't imagine anyone who reads here hasn't heard the terrible news about lis and T. I honestly cannot get my head around it. I honestly thought that this time things were going to be OK. I.... I want it to make sense, and it's never ever going to.
Please offer her your love and support in this horrendous time.